Winding Down

Well, the reason for the lack of races over the next six months is rapidly approaching.  And the reason for absolutely no triathlons this year.

In less than 48 hours, I step onto a plane and head off to Iraq for six months.

Goddess has her game face on.  Son’s being, well, Son.

But we aren’t complaining.  Six months will go by quick.  Especially compared to the neighbors, who, all being Army, are gone for fifteen months.  So we’re keeping it in perspective.

Besides, we’ve been apart longer than six months.  Goddess is a trooper - I was gone for the nine months leading up to the wedding.  While she was dealing with caterers, photographers, invitations and the like, I was sunning, surfing, fishing, snorkeling and partying on the beach in Western Australia.  I showed up four days before the wedding.

Why she took me, I don’t know.  ;0)

I’ll still be running while I’m there, figuring I’m building a hell of a running base for next year’s tri season.

Matter of fact, I’ll turn 40 while I’m there, so I’m going to do the run-focus of Roman’s B-Fit B-Day challenge, shooting for Gold and running 40 on my 40th.  I’ll have to start right after midnight and hopefully finish before mid-morning before it gets too hot.

I’ll post when I can (and when there’s something to post about).  Perhaps a few pictures too.

In the meantime, keep writing those race reports.

Take care,

Bill

Rockin’ & Rollin’

Apparently they blew the tornado sirens last night.  We didn’t hear them, but the very close lightning strikes kept waking us up.  Plus, we’re dog-sitting another greyhound, so the two of them were skittish last night, which made it hard to sleep.

The alarm went off (way too early) and we were on the road to another race bright and early.  Luckily it was a local race, so we didn’t have to drive too much.

Which turned out to be a good thing.

We got to packet pickup and they wanted picture ID.  At that point I realized that I had left my wallet at home.  So Goddess drove like the devil and got us back to the house.  We made it back to the race site with 15 minutes to spare.

Wouldn’t you know it - they didn’t ask for ID this time.

Anyway, we were there for the inaugural Clarksville Duathlon - 2 mi run/13 mi bike/2 mi run.

A last minute addition to the race schedule.  After the Country Music Marathon expo, we stopped by our local running store so I could pick up a few more pair of Injinji (did I mention that I love those socks?).  They handed us the flier to the duathlon, which I posted on the fridge, mostly as a gee-whiz.

On Tuesday, three days after the marathon, I hopped on my Softride for a spin to work out the legs.  It was the first time I threw my leg over it since my IM-distance race last September.  That turned out to be a good ride.  I was surprised how good it felt.  So I punted and entered the race.

Then talked Goddess into doing it too.

I’m a bastard.

Fast forward to today.  You already know about the storms and ID snafu.  We hoped that would be the last (but it wasn’t).

The race started about 20 minutes late, but that’s fine.  It turned out the RD had to be pulled away for some reason.  Besides, the race was held at one of our favorite locations in town, the Beachaven Winery.  The stand-in RD mentioned that we were lucky to have been able to start due to the weather.  She stated that a tornado had gone through the south side of town (unverified, since it’s not on the National Weather Service storm report page).

Anyway, a few words and then the start horn went off.  My intent was to go as hard as I could, pushing it through the whole course.  I told Goddess that I hoped to be choking back bile when I finished.  But I also knew that I had to pace myself.

The two mile run went well, averaging 7:08 miles.  Not too hard, but hard enough, setting me up for the bike.

A quick transition and we were out on the road.  Again, knowing I needed to pace myself, I pushed, but not too hard.  Lots of folks went flying by, but I knew I’d see them again.  Two miles in and I started reeling them back, averaging 21mph.  Those that started too hard were already starting to fall back.

At just past three miles, the clusterf*ck began.  Apparently the RD decided to throw in a hard right turn, but didn’t station anyone there.  There might have been a mark on the road, but there are so many rides through that area year round that you couldn’t tell.  So at least half of the field flew right past it.  The realization came a couple of miles later when we approached the transition area.

One of the course workers was quite apologetic and redirected us.  No big deal, it was just going to add a couple of miles to the ride.  But the lead female was in the group and understandably upset.  So we followed the directions that the worker gave us.  Wouldn’t you know it, they were wrong.   A few miles later we ended up back at the transition area, having made another loop.

At that point, the group decided that they were just going to go out and make it a training ride.  I decided to run.  So I got 9.1 miles out of the scheduled 13 miles on the bike.

The last run leg was a bit slower.  I pushed it hard, but ended up averaging 7:44 miles.

As I finished my run, the rest of the group that was lost ended up rolling back in.  Some ran, some didn’t.  I watched as a couple of other riders came from the opposite direction, apparently having missed another turn somewhere and ended up riding towards downtown.  Some just bagged the run after their fiasco of a ride.

I was worried about Goddess, but it turns out she managed to find her way around the entire course.  Turns out that they had phoned the guy at the turn before the right-hander that we missed and he told her to make sure she turned at the next intersection.  Information that would have been good to know for the rest of us!

I joined Goddess on the run, pacing her from light post to light post.  She’s a good egg.  She came in dead last overall, smiling the whole way and still grabbed a third place AG medal.  My Goddess had a podium finish!

So although the bike course was poorly marked and poorly controlled, we still had a good time.  The best part was that the race fees went to the local YMCA.

I did manage to achieve my goal, which was to push as hard as I could (although I didn’t have to choke back the bile).  Of the 1:02:22 I raced, I was deep into Zone 5 for 51 minutes.  Minus the three minutes total that I spent in T1 and T2, that meant that I wasn’t in Zone 5 for only 8 minutes.

It was good to get back on the bike.  I was impressed that I was able to put as much power as I did to the pedals considering I hadn’t ridden in seven months.  Too bad it’ll be another seven months before I have a chance to ride it again.

That was my first du ever.  And it was a lot of fun.  I’ll look to do more in the future.

Knowing

I’m not a religious person, by any stretch of the imagination.  But that doesn’t mean that I’m ignorant in the ways of the major religions.

I do accept that there are some things that are not ours to know.

Jim Vance posted an ESPN video documenting Ryan Shay’s life and the impact of his death on his family and community.  One can’t help but be moved by it.

Especially rough is the pain and questioning of our friend’s death, which was just two weeks ago today.  We were glad that Goddess was able to make it to Colorado to help the family attend to his wife and two lovely daughters, aged 3 and 5.  Thoughts of him and his family helped me get through some tough moments during Saturday’s marathon.

We found out yesterday that she’s pregnant with their third child.

Some things just aren’t ours to know.

2008 Country Music Marathon - A Training Run

“Remember, this is a training run” - That’s what Goddess told me as we were driving to Nashville early, early Saturday morning. She’s a good egg, keeping in mind that I typically have great training runs and just don’t live up to my expectations on race day. So a training run it was.

Expo

We waited until the day before to go to the expo, even though they recommend that the locals avoid the rush and go on Thursday. But since my parents and sister were driving up Thursday and my sister had to pick her packet up, we waited until Friday. That was our first clue about how big this race was. We’ve never seen so many folks wandering around downtown Nashville.

The expo was an expo. Lots of ways to spend lots of money, if one’s so inclined. We did pick up a few magnets - “Will Run for Beer“, “Will Run for Wine“, “Running - Cheaper than Therapy” and “26.2 - Been There, Run That“. Gotta have some fun, right?

In the middle, we ran into a road block. At first we couldn’t figure out why, then I spied Denise Austin. So Goddess and I got in line to meet her, since she’s a fixture in this house. Actually, it’s a love/hate relationship. We love to follow her stretching routines and Goddess hates every time Denise says “One more time” during the workouts, because Goddess knows it’s a lie.

So here we are with Denise. Too bad I couldn’t work it out so I was the filling.

Race Day

With Nashville only 50 miles away, we stayed home. Next time we think we’ll get a room in town, since it required a 3am alarm to get to the start line on time. A heavy, heavy rain and thunderstorms on the drive down really made for an upbeat drive (yeah, right). Then the horrible race traffic at LP field, which was backed up quite a bit on the interstate and some folks sat in line for over an hour.

This is where the Race Director really screwed the pooch. Instead of organizing police officers to direct traffic, the intersections at the top of the off-ramps were just flashing red lights. Imagine cars delivering 30,000+ racers and their families, all trying to converge on the same place at the same time. It just didn’t work. And where the 7,000 parking spots at LP field were sufficient in year’s past, it wasn’t even close this year. So lots of folks were ticketed and/or towed, according to news reports. The RD’s got a lot of thinking to do before next year’s event.

Anyway, the rain continued. Luckily enough I had enough foresight to grab some lawn bags to throw over us, so we stayed dry while we waited for the shuttle bus to get us to the start area across town, while we stood in line for the porta-johns (which didn’t have TP by the time we got there [AAARRRRGHHHHH]) and then stood in our corrals at the start line. The rain stopped right before the start, so I was able to toss the bag aside.

I was in corral 6, which was for the folks that were looking for a sub-4:00 finish. Did I have any business being in that corral? Probably not, but that’s where I thought I’d be when I signed up for this race back in December.

The gun went off for the elites right at 7am and it took me only 10 minutes to get to the start line. The RD did a great job of staggering the corrals so that we didn’t get all jammed together in the opening miles. The opening miles were nice and steady and I initiated my run/walk strategy just like I had been doing in training - run six minutes/walk 30 seconds. Lots of well-meaning folks were cheering me on, telling me to not “give up” yet whenever I stopped to walk.

Four miles into it and I finally felt warmed up and settled in to my pace. Right around 10K, I started feeling the joys of not having TP at the start and lucked upon several porta-johns that were well-stocked, with no waiting. So my average pace suffered, but in the long run I know it was for the best.

Solid, steady pacing for the next 10 miles. I hit the halfway point at 1:58, so I was on pace for a sub-4:00. I was feeling quite strong at that point, which fit into my plan of slowly ramping up the pace and pushing a negative split. I was poised well.

At mile 15 I felt a little bit of stomach pain. Nothing significant, but I’ve had enough issues in that arena to recognize the onset. So I settled back a bit and let it work itself out, which it did by mile 17. Which just happened to coincide with the longest hill of the course, located between miles 17-18. That’s when the wheels started to wobble a bit, but I didn’t worry about it. Pushing through that, mile 19 felt good, back down at a comfortable pace.

Mile 20 is when the wheels came off. And that’s when a sub-4:00 slipped by me, both figuratively and literally - I watched with slight dismay as the 4:00-pacer slowly passed by with a group in tow. The cumulative climbing caught up to me, as it did with a lot of people by this point. From here on out, my pace swung from 11:23 to a 14:07 mile 23. I didn’t bonk - even with the gastro issues earlier, I had been fueling right from the start at regular intervals, since I carried my fuel with me instead of relying on the water/food stops.

As you can see, mile 23 was the worst point. I hit a section where both quads locked up on me, so it was some ginger walking for a little while. This cramping surprised me, since I was taking Endurolytes religiously throughout the event and had even loaded up on electrolytes for the previous several days in an effort to stave off any cramping. But as you can see, I was able to work it out and started ramping up the pace for the last few miles.

Once the sub-4:00 goal slipped away, I started thinking about my standing PR. Even through the rough points I knew I was going to set a new PR, so it was a matter of by how much. My next floating goal was to break 4:15, but that slipped by too. Then it was to break my standing PR by over an hour, which was still within reach over the until mile 24. By then I knew I’d have to crank out two 7:00-miles to achieve it and that just wasn’t going to happen. But as you can see, I was able to ramp it up for those last two miles.

I was worried about cramping again, especially as I approached the finish chute. Crossing the 26-mile point, I kept looking at my Garmin and wondering if I was going to break 4:30. I wasn’t sure, since the Garmin turned off on me for less than a minute early on (between miles 3-4). That last two-tenths of a mile was uphill and then a hard left turn. I kept accelerating up the hill and made that turn, throwing all caution to the wind. My Garmin clocked me at a 6:15/mile pace for that last tenth of a mile and the legs locked right after I crossed the line. My Garmin told me 4:29:02, but I knew it was more than that. So I had to wait until I got home to find my official time, which was 4:29:47.

A new PR by over 56 minutes.

Official splits:

6084  •  Bill Anders  •  M-39  •  Marathon  •

Gun: 7:00:30 AM	5k	6Mi	10Mi	Half	20Mi	Finish	O’All	Sex	Div
Chip: 7:10:42 AM	28:11	54:12	1:31:28		3:10:49	4:29:47	2294	1509	260
Race Pace:	9:05	9:02	9:09		9:33	10:18

Memorable moments

- At about mile two, a lady motioned ahead of me and said “Well, that’s something to see”. It was a “guy” wearing nothing but running shoes and a pair of hot pink daisy dukes. We saw him post-race at during our feed at Baja Fresh. Luckily he had changed, but I wanted to ask him if he had any chafing.

- Watching the blind runner and his guide, working smoothly as a team as she described the neighborhood so he could “see” where he was running. I reminded me of riding through the Hill Country of Texas with a blind rider while the captain on his tandem described the springtime scenery to him. I know he enjoyed the scenery just as much as we did.

Off-topic plug: For those of you looking to put in some serious early-season bike mileage, I cannot recommend Nick Gerlich’s “Texas Hell Week” enough. A non-supported, but highly organized event, you can meet and ride with cyclists from all over the world who are looking to build a significant base by riding 500-800 miles in eight days. You’ll be amazed that you can do it and after the initial saddle pain of the first three days, you’ll be sprinting up hills and flying along the flats on day seven. But if Texas doesn’t fit your schedule, he’s started up several other Hell Week’s that might work for you. It’s been nine years since I’ve taken part, but I have no doubt that it’s still a quality event.

- At about mile four, the leaders went by on the other side of the street. Impressive to see the leaders, who were now about three miles ahead, even though they started only ten minutes before me.

- At about mile 14, we turned and headed up a hill, which was located right in front of a church. Lined up along the hill were several dozen nuns, replete in their habits, cheering on the runners. Lots of hoots, hollers, and high-fives, as well as a water stop advertising cups of holy water. I should’ve grabbed one, since it was just a while later when the stomach started feeling wonky.

- Right at mile 18, we started heading downhill, which gave a great view of the oncoming masses running the half-marathon. We had split at mile 11 and now we were about to meet up again. With about 21,000 in the half-marathon compared to 5,000 in the marathon, there was a huge difference in runner density. Plus, right about this point I saw the helicopter hovering near LP Field, knowing that the elites were finishing up their races. I cursed.

- While Brian had to sing to himself, we had bands scattered all along the course. Some of the music was memorable, some was not. But as Brian would attest to, there’s a point in a run where one must sing the chorus from “Just a Gigolo”. Come on, you know how it goes - “I ain’t got no body“. Brian, you would have enjoyed the band at mile 23, who decided to play the song and I managed to time it to be right in front of the stage just as they got to the chorus. What a boost.

- Immediately following the “Gigolo” chorus, we met with the Hash House Harriers water/beer stop. For the first time in my life, I bypassed the beer table. I was focused.

- Climbing a small hill in mile 25, a guy was in the shade, holding a sign for his wife/girlfriend. It said “Lisa - Run! Dick Cheney’s right behind you!” I asked if Dick had a shotgun.

- Meeting with Goddess and my sister as they finished their half-marathon. After I made it through the chute, turned in my chip and grabbed some food, I called to find them. They still had a couple of miles to go, so I started walking towards them. I found some shade and then had a lot of fun cheering on folks in both the half and full. I walked with Goddess and my sister for a while, then cut the course to meet them at the finish. A bit of loud, obnoxious cheering and then some shame - I started running next to them and yelled “Hey, if I can do this, so can you“. So they ran to the finish line.

- Afterwards, my sister saw an old guy, with cane and race number, sitting off to the side. She went up and talked to him and found out that he is 88 years old and had walked the half-marathon in his walking shoes, slacks, button-up shirt and carrying an old cassette player so he could listen to his Elvis tape while he walked. He cruised, finishing the course in a time that Goddess and my sister were jealous of.

Summary

- Overall, a good race. I rolled into this one injury-free and rested, even though the previous weeks had been pretty hectic and stressful.

- While I’m very pleased with setting a PR with such a large margin, I’m still bugged by the cramping issues that seem to plague me at every long event. But that gives me room for improvement, right?

- Mentally, I made several breakthroughs during this race. One of the most significant was knowing that I could push myself harder through the pain in the closing miles. A lot of that came from running a strong double-long weekend as well as several other long runs these past few months.

All-in-all, a good day.

Moments of Zen

Both Frazz and Caulfield hit this nail on the head.  I defrag using both methods.

Travel this week threw any semblance of a training regiment out the window.  Managed to miss our flight out by 5 minutes, thanks to an extremely full parking area that forced us to park somewhere in Minnesota in order to catch our flight in Nashville.  By the time we got into the hotel in SC, it was 1230am.  Typically I’d get up at 430am to run, but that wasn’t going to happen since I had to be in a meeting at 7am.

Worked all day, had dinner with friends that I hadn’t seen in many years, then it was off to bed before getting up early to head to the airport.  And the whole time I was glad I wasn’t flying American.

Sipping coffee this morning, looking out the window and wondering why there were barricades up along the road behind our house.  Then the bikes started flying by.  It was a youth triathlon, based out of the indoor pool down the block.  So Goddess and I got out there to cheer the little ones on.  Age groups were broken up into 6-7, 8-9, 10-11 and 12-13.

The 6-7 AG, especially the women, was the best.  Flying on a schweet pink Schwinn, complete with matching pink corduroys, pink down jacket (it was cool and windy) and pink helmet, the lanterne rouge of the event did it in style.  She’ll be rockin’ the course for years to come.  Watch out Amanda!

School work and a long run is all that’s in store for this weekend.  Well, that and washing and repacking, since I’ll be traveling again this week.  Meh.

“That’s it. You can’t race anymore!”

Not my words. That phrase came out of Goddess’ mouth this afternoon. I’ll explain later.

This weekend I ran a marathon. Not a race, but a marathon.

Training.

It came about in an interesting way. Following my training plan, I had my standard 20-miler scheduled for Saturday. You know, the same 20-miler that’s in every marathon training plan. Yeah, that one. No worries, but it was a matter of scheduling.

Everything was piling up towards this weekend: two mid-terms due, the 20-miler, volunteer hours for the Greyhound Rescue and multiple jobs for both work and home. There just wasn’t a good fit for a 20-miler. At least, not without getting up at 4am and running in the dark.

So I ran across a very good blog entry by Gary Ditsch that reminded me of some viewpoints on the 20-miler. Specifically, don’t do them.

Now, there are many arguments on both sides of the fence for and against the 20-miler. And there’s certainly a time and place for them, but not in a typical training plan. At least for me.

I don’t know about you, but a run that long wipes me out for quite a few days. The quality of my runs in the following week are marginal, at best. And that’s assuming that I do them. Some days I’m just knackered and don’t feel like getting out there. That’s tough on the psyche to see the red flag on workouts I’ve skipped.

After my normally scheduled Saturday long run, I take my standard rest day on Sunday. That was something that I stuck with all last year through the IM training - keep a weekend day open for family and relaxation. I’ve continued that this year with the run-focused training. Unfortunately I often feel my legs slowly stiffen up through the day, which makes for a painful Monday morning run.

I think I found a solution to part of the problem, which I worked through last weekend’s 16-miler. Following Jeff Galloway’s plan of run/walk, I felt pretty fresh in the days following the run. Sure, my legs were tired, but I wasn’t stiff and sore. By Tuesday my legs felt recovered and I was quite comfortable through a 6-mile cruise interval workout.

So what does that have to do with this weekend and the title of this entry? Quite a bit.

After reading Gary’s blog and recalling several articles along the same lines, I looked at employing the Double Long strategy this weekend, which I could fit into my schedule. Much easier than a 20-miler. But instead of doing simple math, I decided that I’d do a 15-miler on Saturday before our Greyhound Rescue commitment, then a 10-miler Sunday morning. That adds up to more than 20 miles (at least by my calculations, but math in public is not my strong suit).

Saturday was a beautiful day to run - 42 degrees, a bit of wind and cloudy. I employed the same run/walk strategy as last week - 4 minutes running, 30 seconds walking. The walk breaks do a great job of making me stay focused on hydration and fueling. Plus, by keeping an eye on the Garmin, I was able to quickly catch the two times that it decided to turn off by itself.

And I felt good. Real good. Running the same course as last weekend’s 16-miler, I covered the distance in 2:26:50, which averages out to 9:47 miles. Certainly not anything that will get me on the Olympic Team (right, Karl?), but better than last weekend’s average of 10:19 miles. I was even able to push the last half-mile at 8:05 pace while knowing I still had more in the tank. Here’s my accumulated pace:

For the increases in accumulated pace (Miles 4, 9, 11 and 14), there are long, gradual climbs. Miles 11 and 14 are the same hill, which is a wall at the bottom, followed by a steady climb for 200-300 yards, then leveling off. Mile 3 is a nice flat section where I finally start warming up, so I’m usually much quicker through that stretch.

During the run, I realized that my weekend plan would have me running 25 miles (see, I’m real quick with that math in public). Well, that’s only 1.2 miles short of a marathon, so that means I needed to extend my Sunday run to be 11.2 miles. Why? Just because. Well, not just because, because “just because” equates to junk miles. There was actually a purpose. Mentally and physically.

Within two hours of finishing the run, we were standing on concrete for three hours introducing folks to the joys of greyhounds. We had seven hounds in attendance and they were everywhere. Since they grow up in very close quarters, they are very comfortable with other hounds. As soon as we went through the front door of the store, Skinny caught sight of the others and about pulled my arm off so he could get to sniffing butts.

Standing on the concrete didn’t do much for recovery, so my glutes tightened up a bit. Nothing horrible, but I was definitely ready to go when we were done. Even Skinny had enough and curled up in the one crate that was set out; too much standing for him, especially since he’s used to lying around the house for 20 hours a day.

I woke up this morning, just a touch tired in the legs, but no soreness. I’m really starting to see the benefits of a run/walk strategy.

Another beautiful day - low 50’s, a bit of a breeze, overcast. But humid. Plenty of moisture as a precursor to the rain we were to get this afternoon.

I figured that the first mile or two were going to be pretty slow as I found the pain in my legs. No such thing happened. Right out the gate I was pulling very comfortable 9:30-ish miles. Even through the hills. Heading out to the turnaround, I had a tail wind, which isn’t all that great, since I end up heating up too much. As I approached the turnaround, I wanted to wait until my scheduled walk (today I was employing a 5-minute run/30 second walk strategy), so I ended up turning around at 5.78 miles, guaranteeing that I’d be over 11.2 miles for the run.

Coming back, I had a good 5 mph head wind. It was beautiful, since it really cooled me down. Double layered up top with a technical long-sleeve shirt and an Under Armor compression shirt, the breeze really helped with the evaporational cooling. Ahhhh, sweet relief.

How did it go? Awesome. Negative split, even with the headwind on the return leg. 11.53 miles in 1:47:38, which works out to a 9:20 average pace, 27-seconds per mile faster than yesterday. Here’s the accumulated pace:

Mile 2 is a long uphill. Since it’s climbing out of a deep ravine, the return leg was mile 11. I was cruising at that point and didn’t lose any time. Mile 4 was a very convenient porta-potty stop. So even with the headwind, my average pace dropped from 9:35 for mile 6 to 9:20 overall by mile 11.5.

And same as yesterday, I was able to crank it up for the finish, starting about a mile out. Not a sprint, but a strong, steady effort. The last half mile’s split pace was 8:12 average, but my Garmin tells me that I was down to 7:04 for a stretch there. HR was in Zone 5 for the last 1.1 miles and it all felt good; I still felt like I could have given a bit more if I needed to (e.g. if this was a race).

And that’s how I got the title of this entry. Goddess asked how the run was and of course I was quite pleased. That’s when she said “That’s it. You can’t race anymore!”

We both find it funny how I can have these excellent workouts and then suffer and slog through my races. Each and every one of them. Go figure.

While these were both good experiences, the proof will be in tomorrow’s pudding. I ran my PT test on Friday and was not at all pleased with my 10:42 for the 1.5 miles (7:08 pace); I was shooting for 9:45 (6:30 pace), which I held for the first 1/2 mile, but then faded gradually the rest of the way. We’re doing the test again tomorrow and I think I’ll give it another go. I suspect that I won’t better Friday’s time, but it will be interesting to see what my legs have in them. Then I’ll take Tuesday off.

Well, off to read some California 70.3 race reports…

Flingin’ Flies and a 4 & 30 16

The title sums up the week.

Flingin’ flies refers to my afternoons this week.  For a few of them we drove down to a nearby stream to do some fishing.  For me, it was time to trust the muscle memory and try and find my fly cast.  I had tossed a few flies while living in Australia some 8 years ago, but it had been closer to 13 years since I had done it with any frequency.

Amazing how the muscles can remember such things.  The first day was sloppy, but it was getting there.  By Friday, the casts were long and clean, even to the side while trying to get under the overhanging trees.  I’m used to nice western rivers with broadly spaced pines, not this bushy, brusy tangled mess along both sides of the stream.  Needless to say, I left a few flies in the trees this week.

Tuesday was to see them stock several thousand rainbows and browns.  I don’t think they did, since we received over 2″ of rain that day and the creeks were flooded.  Even by Friday the trout weren’t really there, although Goddess hooked a pretty little 4″ (keep the jokes clean, folks.  OK.  Don’t).  Hopefully they just slipped stocking a week.  Regardless, a day standing waist deep in cool water and casting is much better than being holed up in the house.

As for the other part of the title, that refers to today’s run.  After last Saturday’s 1/2 marathon and the painful aftermath, the week’s running has been low and slow.  And today’s run was to be LSD.  A slow start and I finally got going around 11am.  No particular reason.  It was just a slow morning.

I decided within the first 100 yards that I was going to try a modified Galloway plan and run for 4 minutes, walk for 30 seconds.  Except I didn’t have a timer, so I had to keep an eye on the time.  Easier said than done.  By the time I got about 4 miles into the run, there were several sections where I was into my groove and missed the start of my walk time, so I’d have to recaculate.

All-in-all I’d have to say that it’s an effective method.  I felt just as strong through miles 14-16 as I did through miles 4-6, even though I’d amassed a fair bit of climbing in the intervening miles.  Average pace was 10:18; the run legs were 9:30’s and the walks were 14’s.  Although in the end the average pace is all that matters, I was still impressed with how I felt those last few miles.

I’ll give it another go on next weekend’s 20-miler.

Oooops, gotta run.  TV babe Tina Fey is on SNL.

Nothing’severgonnastandinmyway(again)

“I’d tell you the name of this next song, but if you don’t figure it out by the end of the song, you’re too stupid to talk to“.

That’s how Jeff Tweedy introduced the song that just happens to be the title of this blog. But that’s for later in this blog. First things first.

But before that, here’s another music entry. If it doesn’t interest you, then there’s nothing to see here. I’ll be back to regular training/racing entries soon enough, since this was the last concert for a little while.

Sunday night saw us driving to Nashville for our third concert in six days. In case you missed the others, it was Linkin Park on Tuesday and Kid Rock on Friday. Sunday’s concert was decidedly mellower since it was Wilco playing at the gorgeous Ryman Auditorium.

Sunday was another warm day, so after doing homework and turning in my exams, I was able to get a quick 12-mile MTB ride through the nearby park, checking out some trails and looking at the seams in the creek, anticipating them stocking it with trout in a couple of weeks. Time to get some new tippets and flies ready. Whoo hoo! A quick shower and a bite on the go and we were on our way to Nashville. We’ve been down there so much lately that Goddess and I discussed living there, if only gas wasn’t getting so expensive.

Anyway, after getting our tickets and poking around the Ryman, we made our way to the t-shirt tables. Looking to see what they had, I almost let out a yelp. I knew that Wilco was having a warm-up act, but I had no idea who. But up there on the wall were John Doe t-shirts. For those of you not aware of John Doe, follow the link and read how he was the guitarist and vocalist for THE seminal LA punk band X. For me, that makes connections to two great acts from my youth in one week. John played a mix of his solo stuff as well as a few songs from X, appropriately slowed down for the crowd. He was amazed that he was playing in the Ryman, an old church, mentioning that he would have to call Exene and gloat that he got to play “White Girl” at the Ryman.

After a short break, Wilco took the stage, fresh from their SNL appearance the night before. As soon as they took the stage, everyone stood up, which is understandable. But everyone remained standing the entire time. The Ryman’s way too small for that and Goddess and the Son had a difficult time seeing the show. Especially since the dude in the front of us was at least 8 feet tall (give or take a foot). It didn’t help that the folks way up front were standing, which didn’t make sense, since they couldn’t leave their seats and they had to crane their necks to see up on the stage anyway. I suspect it would’ve been more comfortable sitting. Anyway, since they stood, everyone behind had too as well, making it not nearly as enjoyable as it should have been.

Kluso, here’s the setlist:

1. Via Chicago
2. Blood Of The Lamb
3. Pieholden Suite
4. California Stars
5. Company In My Back
6. You Are My Face
7. Side With The Seeds
8. Pot Kettle Black
9. A Shot In The Arm
10. She’s A Jar
11. Handshake Drugs
12. Impossible Germany
13. It’s Just That Simple
14. Pick Up The Change
15. Too Far Apart
16. Nothing’severgonnastandinmyway(again)
17. Jesus, Etc.
18. Hate It Here
19. Walken
20. I’m The Man Who Loves You

Encore 1:
21. Someone Else’s Song (Jeff Solo w/o PA)
22. Misunderstood
23. The Thanks I Get
24. Red-Eyed And Blue
25. I Got You (At The End Of The Century)
26. Monday

Encore 2:
27. The Late Greats

While you’re at it, take a browse over at Kluso’s site. He’s an excellent musician, living in Okinawa and playing the local club circuit. You can buy some of his music on his site. And if you poke around the photo page, you might find one or two shots from yours truly. Kluso is the one who introduced Goddess and I to Wilco as he covered several of his songs while playing bars and other venues in and around Tokyo. We were his groupies for quite a while, tagging along and following him to some very interesting bars. Thank you so much, Kluso!

Also, if you look through his site, you’ll notice other artists. Kluso was very instrumental in introducing local Tokyo bands to the western expatriate community. Hands down, one of the best was Megababe, a trio of hot Japanese babes that would rock your (bleep) off while playing the hardest metal and punk they could find. Truly a hot show! BTW, one of my photos of them is in there as well.

Anyway, time for Bill to swing way back from his tangent. But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bright shiny object kind of guy. But I refuse Ritalin since I enjoy every second of the ADD.

The Wilco set was excellent. As you can surmise from the setlist, they played quite a while. Over two hours and it was quite a good show (other than the standing). If they swing by your area, I definitely recommend giving them a couple hours of your time.

From now on, less entertainment-themed posts…

Rinkin Park, Rinkin Park

The title will make sense in a moment.

Last night was the delivery on a Christmas present to all of us. Goddess, son and I sped to Nashville after work to go to the Sommet Center. If you haven’t figured out by now, live music is my thing. I’ve been spending a lot more money on concerts since my mid-teens than I’d like to think about. But I wouldn’t trade any of those experiences. Not a single one.

Headlining was Linkin Park. All three in this house are huge fans and we were quite excited to see this show; matter of fact, hand me a beer (or three) and a microphone and I’ll karaoke with LP. Heck, at that point I’ll karaoke with just about anything.

Opening up was Chiodos (pretty good), followed by Coheed and Cambria (meh). We scored floor tickets (General Admission) since I’m a huge fan of being down in the mass of bodies. For rock shows, that’s all part of the experience.

As soon as we got down to the floor, son hooked up with his friends and was gone; we didn’t see him again until everything was over. Goddess and I hung out to listen to Chiodos, milled about during intermission, then left after a few Coheed and Cambria (C&C) songs to get a beverage (Widmer Hefeweizen for me, Michelob Ultra for her). We stood out in the atrium and watched the folks milling about. Plenty of others weren’t too impressed with C&C. Don’t get me wrong, they were not bad. Matter of fact, I though the individual members (especially the guitarist) were quite good, but as a whole they just didn’t do it for me. The songs that I heard were very formulaic and it was difficult for me to tell the difference between songs. In other words, nothing grabbed me. Although I did get a laugh out of watching the hirsute lead singer, who tilted his head forward, sending his hair over his face, making me think of Cousin Itt.

Goddess and I partook in one of our favorite activities - watching people. There were all kinds. From 12-year old girls in mini-skirts and F-me pumps trying to look 19 to 55 year old women in mini-skirts and F-me pumps trying to look 19. Goddess and I were quite catty from time to time, but it was all in good fun. Quote of the night? “He’s going down on that hot dog like he hasn’t had a date in a week“.

C&C finished, so we headed back to the floor. Since the crowd had thinned out for beverage and potty breaks, we were able to get up to about 20′ from the stage. Perfect. Initially I was surprised that Goddess wanted to get that close, but she said “Hey, it’s Linkin Park”. I was surprised since she’s never been a big fan of being close to the stage, ever since I made the mistake of taking her to her first big concert in Tokyo and poising us to be up next to the stage for The Prodigy. She lasted about 3 minutes in that crush of humanity. I lasted about 10 minutes, but dislocating my shoulder put an end to that pit. Good times!

Anyway, we stood and stood and stood. I figured it would be about 30 minutes between bands. The crew was done with the stage in 30 minutes, but we stood there for another 25 minutes before LP took the stage.

Back to the title. While standing there waiting for LP to take the stage, the crowd did the usual chanting for the band - “Linkin Park, Linkin Park”. It made Goddess and I laugh, thinking about good friends who saw LP play in Tokyo. It’s stereotypical and certainly not meant to be mean, but they couldn’t help but laugh as the Japanese crowd did the same thing, except it was “Rinkin Park, Rinkin Park”.

LP played for an hour, flowing from song to song, some fast, some slow. Excellent show from start to finish. They alternated new and old songs, so there was plenty for everyone. I laughed at one point, watching Mr Han, who’s the DJ for LP, playing “Rock, Paper, Scissors” with the cameraman during a point in a song where Mr Han didn’t have anything to play.

Goddess even swooned as Chester, one of her many, many, many “boyfriends”, peeled his shirt off. Since he started off the show in a jean jacket and t-shirt and was jumping all around the stage, I have no doubt that he was hot.

At the end of the hour, they bowed. Time for the first encore, which they came back and played a few slower songs, then ramped it up for couple more, then said goodnight again. Everyone headed for the exits. Goddess and I giggled, since the house lights weren’t coming on. The show’s not over until the house lights come on. So we moved forward and got up to about 5′ from the stage. The crowd thinned out even more. As expected, LP came out for a second encore and we were right up front.

Now, it wasn’t quite the second encore that we were hoping for. Last weekend in New York, Jay-Z came out for the second encore. We were hoping, since we’re big Jay-Z fans too. Especially when he and LP teamed up for their Collision Course. Great stuff! So the encore was “just” LP.

Up to this point, the crowd had been pretty energetic but behaved themselves pretty well. As LP launched into “One Step Closer“, the pit blew up since there was more room and folks could move around. I’m fine with that and actually welcome it, but one kid came flying across right at Goddess, swinging his fists about head-high. I snapped into protection mode. The kid didn’t partake in the pit the rest of the song, but I certainly did.

Son and his friends were among those that made the choice to head for the exits after the first encore. So he got an eagle-eye view of the last song, including the pit. He couldn’t believe that we were up in the midst of it. He kept asking “really?”.

Afterwards we took our time filtering out so the crowd could disperse. The normal 45-minute drive took 2.5 hours! As we drove down to Nashville it was snowing. Not too hard, just flurries. But while we were in the concert, the temperature dropped and the ice set up on the roads and interstates. What a freakin’ mess. We sat in one line for our interstate exit for 30 minutes, then took a detour and worked our way through back roads. We got around the accidents, but it was a harrowing drive for the last 40 miles. We drive a Subaru Outback and love its all-wheel-drive. But there were stretches where I was holding the wheel straight and the crosswind was pushing us sideways across the lanes. We finally made it; not everyone did (that video was at least 7 hours after we passed). Son got to bed just four hours before he had to be at school; it was a rough day for him today. But hey, I did the same thing at his age, getting home from The Who’s (first of many) farewell tours just in time to shower and head to the bus stop.

Me? I took the day off. And took advantage of the weather to get out and take some pictures.

Next concert? This weekend - WILCO at the Ryman Theater on Sunday. Even sooner if I can convince Goddess to go to Kid Rock on Friday night (it being Nashville, with any luck Hank Williams, Jr. will make an appearance). If not, the next one with tickets already bought is Gigantour (Megadeth, Children of Bodom, Job for Cowboy and High on Fire); Goddess will sit that one out, hanging out in the hotel room with Skinny while I take son and a couple of his friends.

Whatever your choice in music - live it, feel it, enjoy it.

The Pot and the Kettle

Well, I got called out for calling the kettle black. Luckily mother nature delivered today and helped provide a bit of motivation.

This photo has been in my head for quite a few months. I’ve always seen it just as it’s presented to you (yes, I always saw it in black and white) every time I cross this bridge on my long runs. I just needed a bit of snow to fall. We’ve had snow several times over the past few months, but nothing significant and certainly not enough accumulation to make this photo.

Had mother nature not cooperated, I would have dug back into the vaults a bit to answer the Kettle’s call. Not too far back, since I shot this a few weeks ago. But with work, school and myriad other things that make up this thing called life, I have yet to post any in my gallery.

These are the pews in the historic Ryman Theater in Nashville, TN. Home to the Grand Ol’ Opry for many, many years, it has since be refurbished and concerts are held their often. During the winter, they move the Opry taping over from the new house and record it here. Lots of history in these seats and on that stage. And it happens to be one of my favorite places to see a show, since it’s small and the acoustics are amazing.

The problem with the size is that seats sell out within minutes for big shows. For this upcoming Sunday’s WILCO concert, I was on the computer right when the tickets went on sale. I had our seats within three minutes and could only get the back row; the entire place was sold out in under five minutes. Shows like BB King sell out even faster.

While you’re at it, take a browse over at the Kettle’s gallery. The photos are both hers and her husbands. Amazing folks the two of them are. And if you look at this year’s gallery, you’ll see photos of her trouncing the competition in her cyclocross series.

On a final note, there’s one thing I can’t stress enough. When you’re viewing anyone’s photo gallery, you really need to be using Safari as your browser. I won’t get into the technical details, but Safari (both Windows and Mac) is the only browser that will display the colors that the photographer intended for you to see. The other browsers default to a standard colorspace, which I know typically washes out my photos and makes them quite drab. For example, the pews shot above looks significantly different in my Firefox versus Safari. Safari matches how I processed the image in Photoshop and that’s how I hope you’ll look at it.